Unusual Avengers team ups 1
by Mokikaitlyn
Summary: A slightly more scary than usual Natasha leads Tony of all people to attempt to cheer her up, with interesting results. One-shot, established clintasha and pepperony, no shipping just fun. Hopefully one in a set of unusual avengers team ups.


Natasha was perched on a windowsill in her room, staring out at the rainy city. It was somewhat relaxing, not having to do anything or talk to anyone.

Of course Stark chose that moment to prance into her room unannounced. She closed her eyes, calling on all her training not to turn around and knock him out in one kick.

"Hey, spider girl! Cap said you won't come down to dinner. Is there any particular reason?

"Go away, Stark."

He sat down on the other end of the windowsill.

"Frankly I'm a little offended. I ordered that meal myself. Does it have something to do with birdbrain being off in Pakistan? Is that it?"

"Stark I said to go away."

"I have something of a proposition for you, if you're interested."

"When I kill you I will sleep better."

"How would you like to come help me try to break the record for how many snobby people's careers and/or lives we can ruin in one evening?"

She looked up at him and blinked slowly. It was possibly the closest to blank shock he's ever seen on her face.

"Get dressed. We leave in 15, just let me get Pepper distracted."

He left.

Some time later Tony Stark waltzed into a posh looking party with a stunning and bored redhead on his arm.

"Exactly what are we supposed to do?" She whispered to him as he waved politely to people.

"Well first we have to mingle so we're not conspicuous. I've done this before, you can't get straight to the fun part. As I'm sure you know, we have to set it up carefully. So I get to introduce you to some people and then we get to dance. Like this gentleman." He pulled her suddenly to an older man who wasn't doing anything.

"Mr. Roberts, may I introduce you to my date for the evening, the lovely and talented Natalie Rushman."

"Charmed!" the old gentleman said, shaking her hand.

"Likewise." She smiled politely, slipping easily into character.

"She's been helping Pepper with some of the CEO stuff. And she's a ballerina," Tony added with a wink.

The man's face lit up. "Really? What troupe are you with, my dear?"

"Oh I'm not with a troupe right now, and I generally do ensemble work. My work with Stark has kept me very busy lately."

"Oh my dear, I know what you mean, why I-"

"Time to go, nice chatting," Stark said abruptly. He pulled her away and she rolled her eyes.

"Okay that worked," Tony said when they were out of earshot.

"What worked?"

"Well, we got you a cover, got a witness that can say we were here for social reasons, and you met the one decent guy in this room. Now we get to dance, come here, we'll make this quick."

He pulled her onto the floor, took her by the hand and waist, and stepped into the music.

"How long do I have to keep this up?" She said as she danced with him.

"Only long enough that we won't make people more suspicious of me than they usually are."

"If you had a little more subtlety we'd be done by now."

"Well, I haven't had any training, I taught myself all this, so give me a break."

She rolled her eyes and kept dancing.

"Wow, you're really good," Tony said after a few minutes.

"I _am_ a ballerina."

"Well yeah, but you're like REALLY good. I thought I was good."

"You're decent." She conceded. "Clint is the only one who can keep up with me normally."

"He's the only one you dance with normally. Like wow, you're fantastic."

"I can help you get better."

"How? I'm leading?"

"Switch."

She switched them, with mild protest from Tony, and sped up the dance. In a few seconds he matched her movements.

"Hey! I can do this!"

She smirked as they kept going. In no time at all the dance was over.

"Wow. That was fun. Normally I don't do switching, but that I could do all night. Maybe we should just do that instead of instigating our reign of terror."

"Get to the fun part, Stark, or you will regret dragging me out here."

"Fine, fine. Okay, see that funny looking guy over there? I'm fairly certain he's cheating on his wife. If we can get her to know about it, preferably by his own admission, she will throw a fit and bye bye big budget production contracts."

Natasha arched an eyebrow. "That would be an impressive fit for her to throw."

"You haven't met her. Now come help."

They successfully brought the producer down without anyone getting wise to them. Tony had dirt on four or five other people that came down just as easily. Most of the scandals they uncovered wouldn't be in the papers until the next day, and a few would take rather longer to come to fruition, which made their victories all the sweeter. They wove through the room like ninja, turning over rocks with people's dirty secrets under them and running before anyone noticed it'd been overturned. Tony's boisterous attitude turned out to be just as useful as her silent precision. When Tony's supply of dirt ran out, Natasha had just started having a lot of fun.

"Oh come on, that's all you got?"

"Well nothing else has enough root to act on. It's hard to gather information on the spot. I spent months accumulating that much."

She huffed. "That one right there," she said, pointing.

"Harold Finnik, big shot producer."

"Yes. He's having an affair with both of those women. Neither knows about the other."

"Brilliant. How do you know that?"

"He's looked at them both too frequently and twice prevented them from meeting. He is intimate with both from conversation snippets I've heard."

"That's incredible. You get him, I'll get the ladies."

She nodded and slid off. They ruined several more careers based on information Natasha gathered on the spot. They carried on late into the evening, having the time of their lives crushing the livelihoods of shady business people.

"Okay, Sherlock," he said as they regrouped again. "Who next?"

She pointed a slender finger at a middle aged man in a grey suit.

"That one."

"He's a state senator. Climbing up the ranks. He's a candidate for governor. Definitely a big fish."

"He runs a drug cartel indirectly."

Tony whistled. "You sure?"

"He smuggles something internationally. He's not tied to it obviously so he's going to be a trick to rat out. It's probably drugs. It will be easier to prove that he's addicted to them himself than the drug operation will be to dig up."

"So how do we get him, oh master spy?"

"I'll spill something on him so he has to change. If he takes his jacket off out here I'll make sure it spills on the floor thoroughly. If he waits until he's in the bathroom you'll have to do it. But if that's the case he's going to be careful about it, and you may have to make pockets other than the ones in his jacket spill. Then we can generally cause a scene until he starts sweating. At that point we skip. We'll figure out what to do then."

"Got it."

Natasha ended up getting the jacket to spill on the way to the bathroom, having followed him to insist on helping with the copious amount of red wine she got on his suit. Several people, including Tony, appeared to help clean up the mess, and Tony and Natasha made sure as many people as possible touched or at least saw the incriminating packages in his pockets. It took some doing, but they eventually ensured that he could and would be charged with possession of illegal drugs and an inquiry would be made into how he got them. No more governor.

By the end of the evening, Natasha was convinced it was the most fun she'd had in years. Of course she didn't tell Tony that, but she was grateful. Two unlikely allies had bonded over their shared appreciation for elaborate pranks and the suffering of bad guys.

Clint got back a few days later to find her in an unusually good mood.

"Hey," he said, setting his mission bag down on the bed. "What's got you so happy? Terrorize some politicians?"

"Yes. How'd you guess?"

"Few things make you smile like that. What happened?"

She smiled at him. "Tony took me on a date and I brought down some drug lords and scoundrels."

"Tony took you on a date?" he said with some surprise. "Should I be jealous?"

"Yes," she said, sliding into his arms to hug him. "We had more fun in one evening than you had in the past month."

"Bringing down drug lords?" he asked, hugging her back.

"Yes. And various other vagabonds."

"Sweet."

Clint, who had fully expected to come to find her cross and mopey with him for going off to Pakistan without her and getting shot at, made sure to thank Tony. After, of course, greeting Tasha more thoroughly.


End file.
